


Days Of The Sweater

by Corvus_Aconitum



Series: Path less travelled by [3]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humour, Interlude, Nick in a dilemma, Nick/ Renard close friends, the sweater
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 21:44:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8817307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvus_Aconitum/pseuds/Corvus_Aconitum
Summary: Nick is in a dilemma. He's forgot to do his laundry and now he has no other choice than wear Sean's sweater to work... yes, that precious sweatshirt his zauberbiest Captain has allowed him to keep as his own.It's safe to say, that the world seems to be conspiring against him today.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MortuisRegina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MortuisRegina/gifts).



> After doing chapter 3 and 4 of 'Running Through The Motions' the most wonderful MortuisRegina prompted me to write another interlude by planting a most adorable image into my head! ^___^  
> Thank you, MortuisRegina, I hope you have fun reading this. Your idea was one I couldn't pass up on. ;DDD  
> Anyway, hope you all enjoy my latest tale of silliness and friendship.

 

Interlude: Days Of The Sweater:

 

Nick makes his way over to his wardrobe in a hurry. He's overslept slightly – not so much that he will be late for work but late enough that there's only time for getting dressed before driving to Hank and then on to precinct while ignoring a few (that is to say all) speed limitations. He has the feeling that he's forgotten something but what it could be he cannot grasp. He opens a drawer groping blindly for one of his sweatshirts while rubbing sleep from his eyes... and comes up empty handed.

_What the f...?!_

Blinking the Grimm pulls the drawer open all the way noticing in slack jawed astonishment that it is completely empty.

_Why is it empty?_

His brain, still sluggish from sleep, needs a moment to make the connection. When it does the Grimm actually moans.

“How could I forget to do the frickin' laundry... for days... or was that weeks?” He murmurs while he frantically searches for a solution to his problem. The answer to his first question is easy. They've been fairly swamped in cases recently which has made something as insignificant as washing clothes slip from his mind.

_Monroe would have a field day seeing this. Now what to do? What to...? Oh._

 

Even when a plan presents itself Nick hesitates. It would be risky, not to say a bit embarrassing....

The simple fact that he's running out of time forces him to act upon his idea.

 

>>>

 

Hank gets into Nick's car. He doesn't comment on his partner's tardiness or on his attire. Although he itches to address that second matter... really itches to. Nick's glare, however, nips any comments in the bud.

For all of five minutes:

“Say, partner....”

“Yeees?” The Grimm draws out that single word in a long suffering way that only he manages to project and only when going by too little sleep and too much work. The afro-American grins, cannot help doing so at the sight his partner presents.

“Say, did you shrink from bathing too hot?”

“What? Why would I...?” Confusion morphs into annoyance when he catches up.

“No, I didn't. As a matter of fact being fairly buried in cases has made some other things slip from my mind.”

“Like doing laundry?”

In Nick's opinion there's too much glee in his partner's voice by far.

“Yes. Like doing laundry.” He says this in such dark tone that Hank seriously considers walking the rest of the way to precinct.

“Don't get your knickers in a twist. I'm sure nobody will notice that you are wearing a sweater two sizes too big. A sweater which happens to have belonged to our Captain once.”

After that he wisely shuts his mouth.

 

>>>

 

“Woah! Watch where you're going! You've nearly spilled coffee all over my sweatshirt.” In fact only Nick's heightened Grimm reflexes save him from being an unfortunate recipient of a coffee shower from their new intern. Billy is a bit clumsy at times which Nick normally takes in good humour and one or the other daring not to say nearly impossible move to prevent mugs, people or furniture from crashing to the floor after being bumped into by Billy.

 

But not today. Not with Sean's sweatshirt on stake!

 

Billy shrinks away under the Grimm's withering stare.

“Sorry?” He trails of unsure in face of this unprecedented show of a bad mood from the always easy going Detective. When Sergeant Wu introduced him to his new colleagues a month ago and said Nick Burkhardt was one of their most formidable Detectives he privately thought that he didn't look all that fearsome – much less intimidating than Dt. Griffin, anyway.

He quickly revises that opinion now. The longer Burkhardt silently glares at him the more nervous he gets. Instinctively he takes a step back, bumps into a desk and nearly upsets the contents of his mug again.

Nick's hands shoots out automatically, one grabbing Billy's upper arm to keep him from falling while the other plucks the mug from his grip and sets it down on a table with a bit more force than necessary – all without spilling a single drop.

“Why don't you abstain from carrying around coffee for some time... like forever?”

Starting out succinctly with an underlying edge of steel the Grimm ends fairly growling.

Billy makes his escape with a squeak of assent.

Nick heaves a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose.

 

_Honestly, the nerve of some people. Sean would have my head, if that sweater got dirtied or damaged! **I** would have my head, if any of that happened!_

 

He pushes up overlong sleeves for the umpteenth time that day, glaring at the room in general just for good measure, before making his way over to his desk to head out with Hank for some further investigations in their latest case.

 

>>>

 

Captain Renard is buried in mountains of case reports that still need his final approval and signing. Precinct has been swamped with cases recently, going so far that his subordinates speculate about criminals going into flash-mob business now.

He prides himself on having a team of excellent Detectives with exceptional clearing rates but a downside of this certainly is an increased workload for him when he is stuck reviewing all those finished reports.

He's just immersed himself in another one when he hears a commotion in main office. There's a short but heated string of words, then a dull noise and a squeak-like sound before there's silence again.

_That's definitely been Nick's voice. But why did he get so annoyed by some spilled coffee? That's not his way at all._

Of course, the Prince knows that his Detectives are stressed out by their increased work load but unlike some of his colleagues until now Nick has been able to preserve his friendly manner.

In an urgent need for a break anyway, the Captain gets up from his seat and out of his office to investigate the matter. He's not in luck, though. All that remains to be seen is a mug on a desk and Sergeant Wu watching the open main doors with a mix of confusion and intrigue. He steps up to the Asian, knowing without a doubt that his Sergeant will have all the answers he is looking for.

“Wu, care to tell me what's happened here?”

“Captain.” The smaller man greets him.

“Nothing to worry about. At least I think so. Nick just blew up at Billy for nearly dosing him with coffee but considering how patient he's been with him so far it's been only a matter of time before even Burkhardt's angelic patience ran out.”

 

“So nothing serious and Sawyers not scared for life?” Only years of knowing the man enables Wu to detect a nearly indiscernible smirk adorning the Captain's features.

“Nope. You might want keep an eye on Nick's stress levels, though. He's behaving a bit weird this morning.”

“Weird how?”

“Well, he keeps an almost comical distance to anyone carrying food or drink and well, you've heard how snappish he got about that bit of spilled coffee.”

“Hmm. I'll keep an eye out.”

 

>>>

 

It is early afternoon when Sean finally finds an answer to Nick's curious behaviour. The two Detectives have returned from making an arrest an hour before and although he hasn't seen them so far, he's heard of their run in with a suspect and a subsequent charging of the man.

Apparently Hank has taken a battering. His questions pertaining their whereabouts have only yielded that they've been visiting the precinct med for patch up. Thomson, the officer at front desk, has also told him that by now Nick is on his way to fetch their perp from holding cells for questioning.

 

As if on cue the zauberbiest Prince hears Nick's voice echo through a neighbouring corridor:

“You cannot be serious! Honestly! First you are all brave and try putting a dent in my partner's head and now that you're facing charges you vomit out of nervousness? And nearly hitting my sweater nonetheless? Come on, get a grip!”

“I've always had a nervous stomach!” Wails another man.

“Then maybe you shouldn't have gone into criminal business! In case you haven't noticed, there's a bit of danger involved.”

Sean rounds the corner to the sounds of more vomiting and the curious sight of his Grimm Detective holding the perp at arm's length by the scruff of his neck to get out of spilling range without loosing grip on him.

There's a look of profound disgust on the younger man's face but that is not what makes Renard hide his shock behind an inscrutable mask:

The Grimm is wearing the dark blue sweater Sean has once given him and he's fiercely berating a suspect for nearly sullying it. Now a few things start to make sense.

 

Still Renard's gut clenches with worry. If Nick is wearing his sweatshirt, does that mean he is in serious distress? After all he normally only wears it when needing something to take comfort from.

Rest assured he will get to the bottom of this.

“Detective, what is the matter?”

His tone is sharp and carries clearly even as he approaches the odd pair from a distance. The Grimm looks up from berating his perp lips compressed to a thin line and expression unreadable. Sean is sure as hell that Nick is embarrassed by him noticing his attire and doing his very best to hide that fact.

“Perp is having second thoughts now that he actually has to fear repercussions for his actions and he is dirtying Police premises.”

Renard's hard stare grazes the suspect shortly before landing on Nick and acquiring a shadow of wry amusement that only his Detective would be able to detect.

“While that is unfortunate and disgusting the latter is no criminal offence.”

“No, but assaulting a Detective is, which he did when he decided to swing a metal bar at my partner's head.”

The green eyes of the Captain turn as unforgiving as the Grimm's and when he focuses on the perp this time he is almost sure to hear him whimper in fright.

“That certainly is.”

He concedes before issuing orders:

“Sergeant Wu, escort this man back to holding cells for now and have someone clear away that mess. Detective Burkhardt, a word please.”

 

Seeing his orders fulfilled he beckons Nick to follow him with a pointed look before striding in direction of his office, projecting an aura of power without having raised his voice even once.

 

>>>

 

Nick starts talking as soon as the door is closed and blinds are drawn.

“I'm sorry. I didn't intent to wear it to work, but what with our recent work load doing laundry just wasn't on my top 10 to do list and then I was already running late today and I couldn't think of anything else...!”

“Nick.”

“What?” To be honest, the Grimm looks a bit frazzled, prowling the expense of his office while explaining things in a rush and waiting for a dressing down for wearing the sweatshirt where everybody can see it.

 

The bastard Prince makes good use of his superior height, staring down at him until finally he stops moving and looks him in the eye.

“So there is no other reason you are wearing it?”

“What? No....” Understanding dawns on Nick's face and something soft shows momentarily. Gaze straying to the side he rubs the back of his head in a show of agitation and sheepishness before looking up once more.

“No need to worry, honestly. Just my own forgetfulness.”

“Good.”

Sean makes sure to hold Nick's gaze; makes sure to show what is otherwise hidden behind an impenetrable mask: Relief and that gnawing edge of worry at seeing the Grimm attired like that.

Finally reassured he makes his way back to his chair and sits down, gesturing for Nick to do the same.

“So, what is the matter with verbally dressing down interns and suspects about spilled... substances then?”

 

Now the seasoned Grimm looks decidedly uncomfortable. Actually he looks down into his lap like a chastised school boy – an impression that is reinforced by overlong sleeves and the lose fit of soft dark blue fabric. And explosive sigh is heard before Nick spills the beans:

“Well, it isn't even the fact that half the precinct eyes me like I am crazy or – as Hank put it – like I shrank while taking a bath! It's more that the world seems to be conspiring against me today.”

This is said in a low but fiercely irritated mumble and with a long-suffering huff. Apparently his agitation is too great to keep still, though, because he's already out of his seat again and pacing while talking. The corners of Sean's mouth twitch upward at the sight and sulky tone.

 

“Well, for a first every member of Portland Police Department seems to be carrying around something to eat or to drink today and to be hell bent on spilling the stuff! Then Billy does his coffee stunt, Sedarsky – the vomit guy – nearly pushes me face first into a puddle of motor oil while we arrest him and to top it all off he nearly vomits on my sweatshirt later on!”

 

Renard remains completely calm in face of this rant, waiting for further words and speaking when no more are forthcoming. To be honest, he is humbled by the trouble Nick is going to keep a sweatshirt out of harm's way simply because it is something he has given to him and yet inwardly amused by the Grimm's antics.

 

“I appreciate the care you bestow upon my gift but you are aware, Nick, that I could give you a new one, if worst comes to worst?” He issues this suggestion carefully and sure enough his proposal is not met by enthusiasm. On the contrary, when Nick whirls around to face him there's a most curious mix of withering death glare, embarrassment and gratefulness adorning his face. The Prince can picture Nick's thoughts all too well: He's humbled that he would even consider giving him a second one but at the same time....

“No, you could _not_ because it wouldn't be _this_ sweater.”

An intense but barely audible whisper again met by a wry smirk and royal smugness barely hidden.

“Come again?”

Another glare, this time for making him repeat his words. A deep, fortifying breath.

“As much as I appreciate your offer, you could not give me another one... because... it wouldn't be this sweater.” The last bit comes out in an embarrassed rush but still he waves overlong sleeves for emphasis.

“Oh, I'm sure they would all have the feature of too long sleeves and loose fit.”

This is murmured under the Royals breath while he inclines his head and met by yet another black stare. Renard gets up in no hurry, standing erect and adjusting his suit carefully.

“Anyway, then there's only one course of action, isn't there?”

The Grimm follows his movements warily.

“And that would be?”

“It means you have to take care nobody gets to ruin it, naturally.”

The evil smirk at Nick's loud groan is not hidden at all this time.

“Which brings us right back to the reason why I am on warpath with humanity today. Honestly, sometimes I think you have it in for me.”

A dark chuckle, a glance somewhere between smugness and fond affection.

“I live up to the challenge, you should know that by now. And don't you have a suspect to question?”

The Grimm shakes his head, grumbling under his breath all the way to the door:

“Suggesting to simply exchange that sweater for another one... really? What does he think? That this is just _any_ sweatshirt?”

Nick's message is clear: What Sean did that day in March when he showed understanding instead of scorn is something the Grimm will never forget. This is not about some sweater, not really. This is about being a true friend when he has needed one.

At the door he turns back one last time, lopsided grin and easy manner restored in full.

“Oh, and Sir, if anyone complains about me verbally shredding anyone for ruining my sweatshirt I'll deny any responsibility for my actions. I have only followed your orders to take care of it, after all.”

“We'll see about that one when we cross that bridge and now, Detective, go and interrogate your perp and check on Hank afterwards. I know you itch to do so ever since you took him to our med.”

 

>>>

 

It is early evening, Nick has made it home without further mishaps and he's managed to wash and dry a load of his sweaters. In other words, all is well again.

A beep of his phone indicates a new message.

Renard.

>Say, why didn't you simply wear a jacket today?<

>Too warm.<

>Or one of your Henley shirts?<

>Too cold.<

>Didn't we establish that you don't get cold?<

>Yes, we did. But that doesn't mean I can run around stark naked without growing cold. I do need some measure of weather fitting clothes.<

>Ah. That's another matter of Grimm physique cleared.<

 

Pause.

 

>Did my laundry by the way. Will be less on edge tomorrow.<

>That's good to hear. Sergeant Wu told me Sawyers turned tail every time he saw you today. You should think about apologizing.<

>That wasn't a mere suggestion, was it?<

>He doesn't get any less clumsy when frightened out of his wits. It's a matter of de-escalation and work accident prevention. So yes, this is an order.<

>Yes, Sir. Whatever you say, Sir.<

>Use your evening for some relaxation. That is an order, too.<

>Done. Will visit Monroe for veggie lasagna and movies.<

>Good.<

 

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Nick. The world can be an unfair place sometimes... good that he has a certain snarky, caring Captain.


End file.
